


all in, palms out

by oopsabird



Category: DCU, Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Catharsis, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hugs, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Wonder Woman (2017), Pre-Slash, Recovery, Sobriety, sober Charlie, well maybe mid-canon since it’s before the victory parade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oopsabird/pseuds/oopsabird
Summary: When they return to London after the battle, Charlie steels himself and makes a choice.
Relationships: Charlie & Sameer (Wonder Woman), Charlie/Sameer (Wonder Woman)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	all in, palms out

**Author's Note:**

> hello little audience! I love you, I hope you are well! I’ve gone and written a new thing again instead of finishing something from the WIP archive, but you never know what might still happen between now and the release of WW84! :D
> 
>  **CW: this deals significantly, albeit in the past tense, with Charlie’s alcohol problems and parts of how that has affected Sami emotionally.** but also him getting sober shortly after the war [is canon](https://oopsabird.tumblr.com/post/636279361893498880/okay-screw-it-more-people-need-to-see-this-so-i)
> 
> [[obligatory retcon](https://m.imdb.com/name/nm0001971/mediaviewer/rm4200833024) of that [stupid wig they glued to Ewen’s head](https://oopsabird.tumblr.com/post/189032226290/i-want-you-all-to-know-im-still-incredibly)]

When they return to the flat — after slogging through Germany and crossing the front again and the channel and telling Etta the heartbreaking news and learning the war will end tomorrow — the first thing Charlie does, before he even takes his shoes off, is go marching into the kitchen. There he opens a familiar cupboard, and takes the bottle of whisky down.

He forces himself not to think at all, not to pause for even a moment, as he uncorks the lid.

Turns to the sink.

And upends the bottle over the drain, to let the contents go pouring out.

The smell catches slightly on the traces of withdrawal nausea that have haunted his stomach all day, but his attention is yanked away from that a second later by the sound of floorboards creaking. When he looks over, Sameer is standing in the doorway, gaping in relatively unguarded shock.

“Charlie-” he says, and any further words seem to die on his talented tongue, too stunned to speak.

Wide brown eyes shine with treacherous hope, and he is leaning forward, slightly, the coat he’s just removed clutched in both his hands in front of his chest. Like he’s hovering on a precipice. Like he’s afraid this moment will shatter if he dares step inside.

The bottle finally empties, and Sameer’s eyes follow the movement as he watches Charlie decisively set it aside.

“I’m done,” Charlie says, turning to properly face him from across the room and holding himself up straight. Shoulders square, chin up, there’s a good lad. Holding Sami’s gaze, even though it burns a little to see the hope in his eyes. “Won’t be any more of that shite, I promise. I’m not gonna keep hiding from the world any longer. Shoulda stopped long ago. I... I’m sorry.” It doesn’t feel like nearly enough, but those are all the words he can find right now, so he takes a deep breath and braces himself for the reply.

Sameer swallows, opens his mouth and closes it again. It is painfully obvious that he is barely keeping it together, despite all his acting skills. Goodness, his eyes are shining so much, so bright. He looks incredibly tired and inexplicably beautiful all at the same time, and Charlie thinks if he were perhaps a little bit braver (and a little less nauseous) it might be enough to make him do something crazy. Like close the distance between them, right now.

And then, as if he has been recently blessed with telepathy: “I... I think I am going to hug you now,” Sami finally manages to croak, finally taking a half-step into the room with half a wobbly smile creeping up his face like the sun creeping over the horizon. “If that is quite alright.”

“Aye,” Charlie nods, finding his own voice faltering, stiff upper lip wavering just a bit at being met halfway like this. Palms open, he presents himself. “Go on.”

And then the coat hits the floor and quite swiftly both of Sami’s strong arms are around him, clutching him so so close as they both start to shake — here in the middle of their cramped drafty kitchen, here at the end of the war. Charlie gives in to it, gives himself up to it, lets his hands come up to splay across Sami’s spine and shoulder blade as he tentatively presses his lips to the disheveled curls on the top of Sami’s head.

A long moment passes before Sami speaks, words croaked out rather damply against the collar of Charlie’s sweater. “ _S’il te plaît_ , please do not... do not leave me like that again,  _matraba_ . I know it is hard, but I- I  _missed_ you...”

Charlie blinks, in stunned surprise and a vain attempt to make his eyes stop stinging. For so long, he has believed that the people he cares about would be better off if he just faded away, drowned himself out until his mistakes couldn’t hurt them anymore. But Sami... Sami, who is clever and talented and handsome and brave... Sami  _missed_ him when he was buried under the drink...

“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely, because it feels like the only thing he could possibly say that isn’t a confession. Wrestling back those damned tears, he squashes his face against the shoulder of Sami’s suit and squeezes him tight. “I’m sorry, god Sameer I’m so fucking sorry-”

“Hush now, hush... I forgive you.” Everything Sami does is a kindness he cannot possibly deserve, the softness of that voice and the gentleness of the hand cradling the back of Charlie’s neck. The incredible way he says such impossible things, turning them into a truth that even a skeptic can’t argue. “There, it’s alright now, is that what you needed to hear? I forgive you, I promise. Goodness, of course I forgive you, I am just so glad you are alive-”

And that’s the last straw, that is the dam breaking with a raw sharp sob that rips up Charlie’s chest on its way out — he clings on to Sameer like the lifeline he is, and just lets a tidal wave of emotions sweep him away. He should say thank you, say something, but his voice has left him for now, he can’t stop crying. He is tired and guilty and grieving and aching and the whole world is too damn much-

But he is here with Sami, here at the end of the war.

And perhaps that, for now, is simply enough.

**Author's Note:**

>  _matraba_ = Arabic word meaning “songbird; one who sings”
> 
> FYI: I am fully aware from research that quitting cold-turkey is really not the safest way to deal with alcohol addiction (because of the severity of withdrawals). However it is also exactly what Charlie would do, based on who he is as a person and the lack of professional supports and resources available to him in this era.
> 
> title is from [Eight by Sleeping At Last](https://youtu.be/obi4KCh6eHQ), which I consider to be perhaps the ULTIMATE Charlie Character Study Song, highly recommend it as companion listening to this fic :)
> 
> the easiest way to get more of these fics out of me is leaving comments and kudos! even without specific requests, knowing I’ve got an audience is the biggest encouragement I have to keep publishing 💜 I can be found on tumblr shouting nonsense and [I MAKE WW GIFS NOW!!](https://oopsabird.tumblr.com/post/636636497151492096/diana-looked-at-steve-and-frowned-she-was)


End file.
